


Rip the Feathers from my Spine

by unremarkablegirl



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F, Heartbreak, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Pre-Canon, Sad Ending, Symbolism, Time Skips, amputated finger (assholes)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29347053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unremarkablegirl/pseuds/unremarkablegirl
Summary: Yennefer had met Renfri in a past life and followed her into her new life. This life, too, must come to an end.Excerpt: The girl—woman really—sat in the corner, her back to the wall, eyes tracing over the room every so often. She hunched over her bowl, almost as if she were scared that it’d be taken from her before she could finish. Her hair was tangled, her armour bloody, a short sword was leaned against the table and Yennefer could see the glint of a blade at her hip. She looked feral. She looked beautiful.**Written for the Writing Corner Bingo Event #1, prompt: I didn't come here to argue
Relationships: Renfri | Shrike/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Rip the Feathers from my Spine

Yennefer had met Renfri close to a decade ago, back when she was but a girl, but a princess. She was this radiant young thing, her defiance far outshining the baubles in her hair, the stubborn jut of her chin both endearing and annoying. Yennefer hadn’t given her much thought, knew that her potential would never be realized. She was a princess, she was bound to have her wings trimmed, doomed to a fate in a gilded cage, her vicious tongue’s only use to sing pretty, empty birdsong. 

She had cast the bold princess from her mind until a chat with Sabrina. Gossip that she was, Sabrina had guided their chat to Stregobor and his age old vendetta. His obsession with those young girls born under circumstances out of their control, his need to punish them for faults not their own, it all disgusted her. He had been out of control, close to two decades ago when he started murdering babies under the guise of the greater good but Melitele forbid that Ban Ard speak out against him. To them, he could do no wrong. Again, she had never felt such disgust. 

She had expected to only feel more of it that day, now almost a decade in the past. Sabrina had sat her down, tea and scones at the ready, fitting to burst with news. And what news it was. Sabrina, with little ears everywhere, had caught wind of what had become of the last of the girls born under the Black Sun. She spoke of a princess turned warrior. She spoke of a girl, betrayed by her own mother, who turned tail and fled only to re-emerge, frothing at the teeth. Sabrina spoke of Renfri, the doomed princess and eternal prey of Stregobor. Yennefer heard tales of a bird set free from her cage. She heard tales of a vicious tongue and swift blade. She heard tales of a girl, a woman, taking for herself the very agency she had been denied; she had been denied her freedom due to her birth and her status and very life, she had been beaten and she had bled but still she rose with blood dripping from wings outstretched. 

**

After that, she kept an ear out, making sure to keep up with the lost princess. She learned of her escapades, learned of her band of mercs, watched as she traversed between borders and grew up in ways only those with savage beasts caged inside ribs could. The day she learned that the girl had become the _Shrike_ , she decided to step out from the shadows. 

She found her at a tavern at the edge of the world, a decrepit looking place with watered down ale and barely any patrons. 

The girl—woman really—sat in the corner, her back to the wall, eyes tracing over the room every so often. She hunched over her bowl, almost as if she were scared that it’d be taken from her before she could finish. Her hair was tangled, her armour bloody, a short sword was leaned against the table and Yennefer could see the glint of a blade at her hip. She looked feral. She looked beautiful. 

Halfway into her walk across the room, Renfri’s eyes locked onto Yennefer, watching her with hawk eyes and poised to fight. Yennefer stared back, steady and calm as she smoothly slid into the seat across from Renfri, conscious to settle her hands on top of the table. She could practically taste the iron in the air. 

“If you’re here to take me to him, you’ve already lost.”

Yennefer felt a smirk slide across her face. This was a fighter, a survivor, a champion. “I’ve no intention of ever letting him find you.”

She didn’t bother waiting for a reply, the girl’s face suspicious, “I’m here to offer patronage. I’m sure you remember me from a past life and if you don’t, you’re lying. You fascinate me, a warrior and a champion and a leader. I once saw you as a caged bird but that’s no longer true is it? You’ve set yourself free, burned the bars that caged you and have exploded out into the world. Admirable.” 

Telegraphing her movements, Yennefer pulled a pouch from inside her cloak, let it clink loudly onto the table between them. “You should find that to be enough to take you to the next city. You should also find a duke staying there, one known for child labour. Do with that what you will.” 

Yennefer did not wait for a reply, lifting herself to her feet and walking away. She did not bother looking back. 

**

Yennefer found her two towns over, sliding into the chair opposite her.

Before she could speak, Renfri dropped something onto the table between them. It was thin and wrapped in dark cloth. Pointedly, she nudged it until Yennefer took the hint and unwrapped it. 

There, in the dark cloth, on the table between them, in a tavern filled with patrons, was a finger. Yennefer did not flinch, instead reaching out to lift the finger, inspecting the signet ring on it. It held the duke’s coat of arms. She lifted her eyes, Renfri was smirking at her. Good, she deserved to feel pride in her actions. 

After that, they fell into a pattern of cat and mouse, Yennefer reaching out to Renfri, offering coin and pointing the way to those more vermin than human. 

If they occasionally fell into bed with each other as well, that was a private affair. 

If they lay there, with Yennefer tracing scars laid into flesh as Renfri combed fingers through raven hair, that was a private affair. If they spoke of horrors and betrayal, if they spoke of pain and transformation, if they spoke of falling prey to those stronger than themselves before rising up from their own ashes, that too was lost to the night. 

If they fell asleep in each other’s arms with legs twined together and bodies bared, after baring their souls, that was between the two of them. If, as Yennefer slipped out, she turned to Renfri reclining on the bed, sheets pooled around her waist, scars on display and soft smile in place, if as this happened, Yennefer found herself thinking she looked more at home here than she ever did in a castle, that was a secret known only to herself. 

If, for close to a decade, both deluded themselves into thinking this was the one good thing in their lives that they could keep, well Melitele knew better.

**

It all comes to an end in the woods. Yennefer never came to Renfri when she was in the woods, that was her place. A place for her to be wild and free and rage. It was where she let her wings stretch out to their full span, high and mighty as she ran with jackals and carved through pathways, as she let herself go, as she unleashed her beast. 

Now, she struggled to pull it back under, her back to Yennefer as she contorted and made herself smaller. Her dagger went back into its sheath as she stared at herself in the river water. 

Yennefer felt her heart break, she thought Renfri knew that she never had to make herself smaller around her. Knew that Yennefer saw her for what she was and what she held inside and chose, still, to twine their fingers together and press kisses to her stomach. Had she not laid between her thighs, trapped herself in the clutches of the beast, trusting Renfri not to hurt her? Had Yennefer ever tried to tame her, to chain her, to lock her in a cage? 

Yennefer swallowed, choosing to speak, to address why she sought out Renfri, “Stregobor, he’s coming. He’s swayed opinion at Ban Ard, he will not be held accountable for all that he is about to do.”

Yennefer’s arms, limp at her sides, raise and outstretch, fingers splayed wide, “I didn’t come here to argue. I came to warn you.”

Her arms stay outstretched, wings pinned to a board as she laid herself bare, “I—I care about you, you fool. You cannot run forever. You must face this, you must let me help you. I can help you. We can face this and put the past to rest. I would never interrupt you if I didn’t think it important.”

At this, Renfri turned, her gaze flaying Yennefer, pulling back her layers, stripping her of her makeup and her clothing until she stood a scared woman in love, looking only to spare herself and her lover death, heroics, and heartbreak. 

Renfri walked towards her, a swagger in her hips more beast than human but her touch was gentle as she traced the curve of a brow, followed the ridge of a nose and brushed her fingers over a cupid’s bow. Her knuckles came up to brush at Yennefer’s cheek before her hand fell away.

“You’re not here to argue, I know. I won’t argue with you either. There is no argument, no discussion to be had. This is my past and my life, I shall take it for myself and end his life with my own blade. I don’t need help nor have I ever asked for it. All that I have and all that I’ve become, I did this. I did this. And now? I shall finish it.” 

Her gaze still had Yennefer pinned as she took a step back and then another, distancing herself from that which had once had her singing pretty, thrilling birdsong. She had not felt empty nor decorative when she lay with the sorceress. She had felt like a beast satiated, the predator in herself calmed and protective over this woman that dared lay bare before her, mind and body. She let Renfri sink her talons into her, but she too had left marks and had dug claws into flesh. She was no timid girl. She had been perfect. 

Renfri should have known it could not last. She took another step backwards, “I must end this on my own terms. I refuse to have help, to taint myself with the very magic he shall be using against me. I’ve been his prey for too long. I hope to find you when this is over, be it months or years from now.”

She turned, could not stand the heartbreak on Yennefer’s face, could not stand to see her hands clasp into fists as she found her own anger, as Renfri tainted this good thing with her selfishness. 

Renfri had started this new life with her own blood dripping from wings and ended it with blood not hers dripping from talons. She was free, no longer caged but as she left behind the sorceress, she locked away her heart, the wild and savage thing gnashing teeth against ribs and howling in agony. She did not bother looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [@unremarkablegirl](https://unremarkablegirl.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> Comments and Kudos much appreciated!


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